The sun hung low, casting soft light over the water, the early morning stillness broken only by the rhythmic sound of waves brushing against the shore. The air felt cool, tinged with salt and the dampness of earth, with the faintest hint of wildflowers carried on the breeze. The sand stretched out beneath their feet, soft and shifting with every step, leading them to a quiet section of the beach where the forest pressed in close. Trees loomed tall, their shadows long in the gentle sunlight, creating a sense of space that felt oddly secluded, as if they had reached the edge of something just out of sight.

Thistle suddenly stops and turns towards a part of the ocean lying more still than the rest, although he seems to be staring at seemingly nothing, “Welp, we’re here.”

“Um, where is–here?” Cass says as she also stares at the nothing in front of them.

“Cass don’t you remember, this is my favorite place,” Riona sarcastically gestures towards the water, “random showside.”

Thistle rolls his eyes, “Oh, ha ha, just watch.”

Thistle stepped forward, the water lapping at his boots, and raised his staff with deliberate precision. He swung it gently over the water, the motion slow, controlled, sending ripples cascading across the shore. With a practiced fluidity, he raised it again and brought it down with force, but midway through the swing, he eased the staff’s descent, halting it just inches from the surface. The hooked end of his staff hovered there for a heartbeat, barely touching the water, and the moment it made contact, the water rippled outward in a perfect circle, expanding until it reached the edges of the shore. For a long, silent beat, nothing changed, the quiet only broken by the soft sounds of the waves. Then, with a low, distant rumble, the water behind Thistle began to shift, parting slowly to reveal a long stairway with torches lighting up the path after its reveal.

“Oh–my–WOW!!!” Cass shouts in overwhelming curiosity.

Thistle looks back at them with a big grin and soft chuckle, “C’mon, lets go.”

Thistle stepped forward, his boots sinking gently into the soft stone steps, with Riona and Cass following close behind, both in awe. As they descend, they go through a large walkway as the surroundings began to unfold, revealing a sprawling underground city bathed in a soft, warm glow. The ceiling above was covered in one sided stained red glass, the sunlight filtering through the visible water and casting everything below in a rich crimson light. The glass shimmered gently, making the entire space feel alive with color. 

Cass let out a breathless "Wow," while Riona simply stared in silence, both overwhelmed by the beauty of the place.

The buildings around them were crafted from smooth stone, their surfaces polished and sleek, as if sculpted from the very earth. Some featured dark wood accents, intricately carved into flowing patterns that mimicked the movement of water. The stone walls appeared solid, yet there was an undeniable sense of fluidity in the design—rounded edges and curving shapes that gave the structures a natural, almost organic quality. The rooftops were a seamless blend of slate and tile, tightly fitted together and gleaming slightly in the warm glow, adding a soft, textured contrast to the polished stone below. As they walked deeper into the city, the plaza ahead opened up, its smooth stone floor flanked by large shops, each filled with gleaming displays of imbued objects—shards, stones, intricate trinkets, and devices that hummed softly with hidden power. The soft sounds of chatter mixed with the low buzz of the imbued market, where traders displayed items on polished stone counters and behind transparent glass windows. The city, known for its expertise in imbued objects, was the heart of their market, and the wares here were unlike anything seen outside the Suburbs.

Thistle’s steps slowed as they passed one of the shops, a familiar voice calling out from inside, “Well if it isn’t Thistle! And Gaia.” A grinning merchant, his graying hair streaked with silver, stepped out from the door, raising a hand in greeting.

He was a large man, his thick coat adorned with pouches of various magical tools, “I didn’t expect to see you around here. Been a while, hasn’t it?”

Thistle gave a small, amused smile and nodded in acknowledgment, “It has. I see the market’s as busy as ever.”

The merchant chuckled, “You could say that again. Got a lot of new stuff—things I’m sure you’ll find useful.” He gestured around at the shelves stacked high with objects that buzzed with arcane energy.

“I’d love to check ‘em out, but I’ve got business.”

“Alright, alright, you go on then. Stop by before you leave though.” the man flicks a coin before turning back to his work. 

Riona and Cass exchanged curious glances, their intrigue piqued by the array of items. As they continued deeper into the Suburbs, they passed more shops, each one offering a different selection of imbued objects. Some were devices meant for enchanting, others were trinkets designed to harness and store magical energy. A few displayed enchanted stones said to enhance one’s magical abilities, while others offered oddities of power, like rings that allowed brief glimpses into the future or pendants that could calm the most unruly storms. Despite the bustle of activity, the people here seemed to recognize Thistle immediately, giving him knowing glances and subtle nods of acknowledgment. Some waved from behind their displays, while others gave him respectful nods as he passed by, as if his presence here carried a certain weight.

The air was thick with the scent of incense and the faint hum of magical energy, and Cass couldn’t help but stare at everything around her in awe, “This place…” she muttered, “It’s incredible.”

Riona, equally captivated by the sight, “Yea, this place is–really beautiful.” though her mind was already running over the implications of all the powerful imbued objects so easily accessible, within a secret town to be fair.

As they continue down the plaza path a palace in the center of the suburbs becomes ever more visible. The palace stood with a towering presence, commanding attention without overwhelming the landscape. Constructed from dark granite and smooth marble, the structure seemed to rise naturally from the ground, as if it had been shaped by the very flow of the earth itself. Subtle red highlights traced the edges of the palace, with thin veins of red running through the marble, catching the light and adding a warm, almost ethereal glow. The palace stood as the heart of the suburbs, and the home of the chief, Torin Rufus. 

“What’s in the palace?” Riona askes.

“An old friend,” Thistle answers, “The only one I know who even might be able to fix this censor.”

And so they head off to the palace, as they approached the grand entrance, the doors of the palace, made of intricately carved wood and stone, creaked open, revealing the interior—a vast hall with towering columns and high arches, all polished stone that seemed to shimmer in the dim light. The air inside was rich with the scent of incense and the faintest trace of polished wood, a feeling of warmth and strength settling over them as they stepped in. Thistle led the way through the hall, his footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor. The hallway opened up into a larger chamber, and there, standing before a large desk strewn with papers and a few glowing artifacts, was Torin, his staff resting against the side of the desk. The staff was simple yet elegant—just a smooth pole with an orb at the top, surrounded at the base by four smaller orbs, of course, the whole staff hued in different shades of red, magenta, and vibrant sapphire coloring the larger orb at the top. His sharp gaze softened as he caught sight of Thistle. A wide grin spread across his face, his eyes lighting up with recognition. He stood quickly, pushing his chair back with a clatter, and took a few long strides toward Thistle.

“Thistle!” Torin exclaimed, his voice a mix of surprise and warmth, “By God, it's been years!” he pulled Thistle into a strong hug, the embrace both familiar and full of the weight of time passed, “I didn’t think I’d see you again, you were here for years before, I guess it was kind of silly of me to think you would settle down somewhere.” Torin continued, stepping back to study his old friend. 

His hands rested on Thistle’s shoulders, a mixture of fondness and concern in his eyes. Thistle's smile from seeing him fades slightly at the mention of settling down.

“You know we just talked not long ago, right?” Thistle replies

“Well yea, but I haven't actually seen you in ages! How’ve you been?” Torin asks as he tighties up his dumpster desk.

“I’ve been good, I just came for some business.”

Torin closes his desk drawer, “You gonna say hi to anyone else while you're here?”

“Oh, um well, I don’t know.” Thistle looks away.

“You know,” Torn gives a smooth smile, “that fox still lives here.” he nudges his arm.

Thistle blushes slightly, “Oh, well I wasn’t really gonna stay for long.”

“But-”

Thistle interrupts him, “Business, business, I’m here for business!” he grabs Torin’s hand and places the broken censor in his palm, he points at the censor, “Business.”

Tornin holds the censor up close to his eye, “Oh, the heck happened to this thing.”

“Well, something really bad happened to the city I found that in. There were more, but then Eldridge happened.” Thistle growls under his breath.

“Eldridge? Isn’t that y-”

Thistle covers his mouth, slowly nodding his head side to side.

“Ok.” Torn says, his voice muffled in Thistles glove palm.

Thistle removes his hand, “Can you fix it?”

“Oh yea sure, I need to assess the damage though.” he smirks, “Guess you’ll have to go chat around while you wait.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“YAY!” Cass shouts, startling everyone.

Torin reels back in shock, “Woah! I didn’t even realize you had others with you,” he walks over and looks at Riona before bending over and smiling at Cass, “Who are these fellas?”

“Hi, my name’s Riona Thomas.” she puts her arm out for a handshake.

Torin shakes her hand, “Nice to meet you, you’re from Kaleidoscope, aren’t you?”

“Oh yea, how’d you know?”

He raises a brow at her, “You have a sword on you, no one does that around here.” he chuckles.

“Oh.”

He looks over to Cass, “And you?”

“I’m Cass, hello! I love your palace and your town, this entire place is awesome!”

“Why thank you, I’m sure Thistle would love to show you around while I’m busy.” he nudges Thistle's shoulder, “How ‘bout you go do that.”

“Okie dokie.” Thistle says with a tired voice, “Just tell me when you're done.”

As they leave the palace, the bustling atmosphere of the plaza was more alive now than it was even a few minutes ago, but there was still a sense of quiet anticipation in the air. Thistle walked ahead, his boots echoing lightly against the smooth stone as Riona kept pace beside him.

“So,” Riona says as she glanced over at him, “you didn’t really seem all that eager to talk to anyone or even take a look around. Why's that?”

Thistle hesitated, glancing over his shoulder briefly. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes scanning the nearby displays before he finally answered, “There’s just… someone I don’t want to talk to right now. Not before—”

His words were cut off as a voice suddenly called out from behind them.

“Thistle!” The voice was sharp, but familiar.

Thistle sighed, already knowing who it was before even turning around. 

“Hi Edith.” he says in clear distress.

Her short dark hair framed a sharp but tired face, and her eyes flickered with a mixture of recognition and something else—something less welcoming.

“Were you just gonna show up, and not speak to me?” she shouts from across the plaza.

Thistle turns around to face her, “Yea, that was pretty much the plan.”

Edith approached, crossing her arms, her expression stern but somehow softer when she focused on Thistle. “We need to talk. You still haven’t returned my letters,” she said with a quiet bite to her tone.

“You sent letters? You know I’m a nomad, I don’t get letters.”

“Ok, well you could’ve written to me at least.” her eyes showing a slight concern for him.

Thistle ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. He sighed deeply before looking at her. “Listen Edith, not now. I didn’t come here for you.”

“But it’s been—”

“I know,” Thistle interrupted, his tone sharper than he intended, “I know it’s been a long time.” he turned slightly, looking away from Edith, the heat of the moment beginning to settle into an awkward silence.

“Well, you were never gonna be able to avoid me forever, I knew you’d be back.”

He sighs again.

Riona taps Cass on the shoulder, “Hey, this seems like a private drama, we should go look around.”

“But it’s juicy.” Cass complained.

“I thought you wanted to look around?”

Cass shrugs, “Oh yea, I did!”

“Hey Thistle, we’re gonna go look around. You can call Cass on the stone once you need us back.”

“I, um, ok.” Thistle hesitates to let them leave him alone.

He turns back to Edith as she clears her throat.

She crosses her arms at him, “Well?”

“Well, what?” he replies.

They stand in silence for a moment, “You–wanna catch up?” she suggests.

“Well, are you hungry?”

He holds his stomach,“Um, yea. Very actually.”

She grabs his arm, “Great, I'll buy you lunch. We get to catch up.”

She gently drags him off. Thistle let Edith guide him through the streets, his thoughts trailing behind her steps. The city around them was alive, full of energy, and yet, in the back of his mind, all he could think about was the awkward weight of the conversation ahead. They reached a small café tucked into the corner of a plaza, a simple structure with red-tinted stone walls and lanterns hanging overhead, their soft light flickering in the midday sun. Edith led him to a table near the back, a quiet corner that still allowed them a view of the bustling town square.

She sat down first with her sandwich, and for a moment, Thistle just stood there, hesitating.

“You’ve been avoiding me for a reason, haven’t you?” Edith’s voice cut through the tension. “Is it the city? Or… us?”

Thistle finally sat down, with his only order being some fries, his hands resting on the table, fingers tapping lightly.

He wasn’t sure how to approach this, but the truth was always the hardest to say, “It’s complicated,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the surface of the table as he thought about how to explain, “I didn’t expect to come back here, up until about a week ago—let alone see you.”

Edith raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp but not unkind, “You didn’t expect to see me?” She leaned back slightly in her chair, studying him with a quiet intensity, “Or were you just hoping you wouldn’t have to?”

Thistle shifted uncomfortably, glancing over his shoulder, as if expecting someone to jump into the conversation.